DOUG McKECHNIE – SAN FRANCISCO MOOG:  1968-72 VOLs. 1 & 2

(CD, Digital on VG+ Records)

These releases aren’t technically new, with Vol. 1 released in 2020 and Vol. 2 in 2023, and of course the music itself isn’t new either.  But what is recent, to this writer at least, is the amazing story of Doug McKechnie, as told by the amiable 83-year-old in the wonderful Bureau of Lost Culture podcast series.  If you’re not familiar, get thee to a podcast source, and look up the episode “The Sonic Explorer of the Psychedelic Frontier.”

I thought I was fairly well-versed in my early electronic music pioneers, but McKechnie escaped me.  The reason he’s not as much of a household name as Walter/Wendy Carlos, Beaver & Krause, Suzanne Ciani, Isao Tomita or Delia Derbyshire is that he’s not commercially minded and didn’t properly record or release this music at the time.  These two volumes were the first time this music saw the light of day since they were originally performed, mostly in live settings.

He got his hands on only the fourth Moog Modular Series III synthesizer built by Robert Moog.  He tells a story in the podcast of the great inventor coming to his apartment and catching McKechnie accidentally with a bunch of marijuana on a table.  “I hope you’re saving some of that for me” muttered Moog, and they got on great from there.  McKechnie schlepped his hulking machine to live performances, mostly around the Bay Area, blowing the minds of hippies and others with its otherworldly sounds.  He’d often perform in multi-media happenings, frequently with light shows behind him, but sometimes including dancers or at planetarium gigs or acid tests.  Most of what you hear on these two albums is taken from those kinds of shows.

The music has an eerie, ghostly quality to these ears. McKechnie’s style was often to establish a rhythmic pattern (we might tend to think things like looping pedals are relatively new inventions – guess again).  Then he’d twiddle and diddle with the sounds and try new effects and melodic themes.  Almost everything was improvised.  You can almost hear him mid-song several times thinking “let’s see what happens when I plug this cable into that hole!”

At one point he was asked by the Grateful Dead to lend his talents to one of their albums.  He tells of an eight-day period holed up with them in the studio and how they brought along a nitrous oxide tank with breathing hoses.  When the great interviewer Stephen Coates asks why, McKechnie says he wondered the same thing, then partook of the supply with them and thought, “So that’s what this was all about, just before I hit the floor.”

In 1969, the day before the Stones’ notorious Altamont festival, he was asked to be part of the sound crew.  He agreed on the condition that he be allowed to perform a set.  Here again, I thought I knew my Altamont history pretty well, including the lineup, but you won’t find too many Altamont historical accounts of the musical acts including Doug McKechnie.  But there he was.  He decided to play at sunrise and wake up the groggy campers, serenading them with his intergalactic Moog sounds.  I wonder what in the world they thought was going on, as what would unknowingly be the start of a rather bad day.  About 7 minutes of his performance survives in a Youtube video which is well worth checking out (and I wish had been part of this collection).

Why did the performances suddenly stop in 1972?  It’s because he’d always been borrowing that Moog from his friend and roommate, whose rich parents had bought it for him.  Said friend sold the Moog to Tangerine Dream.  Edgar Froese and friends would go on to use it on the classic album Phaedra and others.

But McKechnie’s penchant for doing imaginative and interesting projects continued.  He provided the music for an installation at the Exploratorium, which combined exhibits in art and science then at San Francisco’s Palace of Fine Arts.  In 1977 he scored the short documentary “Spaceborne,” a film which featured footage from the Gemini, Apollo and Skylab programs and was nominated for an Academy Award.

But perhaps his most audacious and outrageous achievement was when he played the Golden Gate Bridge.  I don’t mean he performed a gig near the bridge; he played the Golden Gate Bridge like an instrument.  A friend had invented an electronic device that worked like a giant electric guitar pickup.  In 1975, in the dark of night, McKechnie and friends hooked the device up, and used a large mallet, recording the sounds made striking girders, cables, pylons, etc.  While it nearly got them arrested by a passing police officer curiously surveying a bunch of guys attaching electronic gizmos to the Golden Gate Bridge at 2 o’clock in the morning, they came back legally at a later date after “renting” the bridge for the princely sum of $13.50 an hour.  Many years later, when electronic samplers and better sequencers were available, as part of the 50^th anniversary celebration of the bridge, McKechnie and the San Francisco Synthesizer Ensemble used the recordings as part of a musical suite in tribute.  Snippets can be heard in the podcast, but that’s about all you can hear of it at this time.

Doug McKechnie remains as sharp and affable as ever.  The rest of us might be late getting to the party hearing his music and his story, but better late than never.  It’s well worth a listen.

(Mark Feingold)

MARK FRY - NOT ON THE RADAR (THE DEMOS)

Available on Second Language (digital) /  Norman Records (limited vinyl)

Demo versions of final release tracks have become a cottage industry of late, particularly with bonus discs accompanying archival reissues. Fry does them one better by releasing his demos for his wonderful album from May, which we enthusiastically reviewed. These early versions give us a glimpse into the songwriter’s craft, a window into the creative process as Fry works through potential melodies, lyrics, and arrangements. Accompanying himself on acoustic guitar (with an occasional piano or tambourine tinkle), there is an inherent intimate feel to these rough blueprints that would be coloured in with drums, keyboards, percussion, bass and additional guitars on the final product.

     The sequence matches the released album so you can A/B to your heart’s content, but right from the start I hear a more relaxed vocal and easygoing fingerpicking on ‘Only Love’ and the lilting sway of ‘Big Red Sun’ feels a bit faster, although Angèle David-Guillou’s piano fills and Iain Ross’s guitar solo enhance the atmosphere on the final product. I think ‘Stormy Sunday’ benefits from dropping the spoken word bits (from a radio transmission in the background?) in the completed track, although Fry’s off-mic comment about “hanging on to your hat” does add to the laidback vibe. [I don’t speak French, but perhaps those “transmissions” on the released version were off-air recordings of an actual Normandy weather forecast?)

     ‘Where The Water Meets The Land’, a personal highlight of the album is about a minute shorter, but I believe it was this WIP version that convinced the filmmakers of a recent documentary on Fry’s career to select it as their title. I do miss David Sheppard’s percussive “crashing waves”, but that’s an example of how a blueprint can be enhanced once the full band are gathered together to improvise subtle enhancements. Conversely, the title track is a full minute-and-a-half longer here and, stripped of its rumbling drum backing, sound effects, and Fry’s more forceful, almost funky vocal is dreamier than what you’ll hear on the final edit.

     I may have missed it first time around, but I sense a bit of a nod to Dylan’s ‘Knocking On Heaven’s Door’ hovering over ‘Daybreak’ and this barely-whispered early take is even more emotional and melancholic than what eventually made the final cut, even if that version actually feels slower and more resolved to the destitute resignation of “life’s heartaches.” ‘Where Would I Be’ still boasts a wonderful lullaby melody akin to John Prine’s similar compositions, and the Cohenesque ‘Jamais Á L’Heure’ is still as sweet a love song you’re likely to hear for a very long time. I’m so entranced, I have to admit the final album version could have omitted the spoken-word introduction, which added an unsettling diversion. ‘Rainbow Days’ loses its piano accompaniment and Fry’s later spoken verses are sung in this demo take which I prefer. There was always the sense that the album version was an aborted take that needed a little more work. Now we have that to enjoy.

     Overall, there’s a heartwarming atmosphere of a personal front-room concert with Fry playing his latest creations for you and a small circle of friends. A conversational vocal shines through, perhaps a more relaxed Fry without having to think about his fellow musicians in the room waiting for their parts to come around? And I should also note that these are all “clean” takes - no stumbling over missed notes, forgotten lyrics, or “let’s start again”s. As such, I can assure you that this is as strong an album as the final release and could easily have stood on its own if released “as-is” in their stead.

     Fans of Leonard Cohen, Nick Drake, Bert Jansch, Jackie Leven, even Everything But The Girl will immediately warm to its many charms. And while, admittedly, there are bits of each that you’ll probably prefer…an addition here, a subtraction there, the songs are so beautiful, adorned in romantic, poetic lyrics that two versions actually are better than one! Plus, there’s the added bonus track in the digital-only download ‘Parallel Moon,’ a rather upbeat head nodder and toe tapper with quite the Dylanesque groove (and lyric!). I hope Fry has a few more of these gems ready for the next album!

Jeff Penczak

ATOM JUICE – ATOM JUICE

(LP, CD, Digital on Heavy Psych Sounds Records)

Warsaw, Poland’s Atom Juice drops in with an excellent debut album.  It’s steeped in 70’s-style FM rock.  Their sound is laden with vocal harmonies and lengthy tracks full of muscular guitar solos and further instrumental explorations.  Those harmonies, by guitar/keyboard player Bartek Dobry and guitarist Karol Melak, are all over the record.  Barely any of the vocals are not sung in harmony.  And the band is blessed with three fine guitarists – the aforementioned Dobry and Melak, plus Patryk Tarajko.  Your typical Atom Juice track has verses sung in the beginning and end, with a whole lot of instrumental flights of fancy in-between, and these guitarists have the chops.

Dobry is no slouch on keyboards either.  Tracks such as “Gooboo,” “Sexi Frogs” and “Honey” feature some nice Mellotron and organ, creative use of tempo shifts, and a stunning reserve of powerful, often harmonized guitars when Atom Juice feels the time is right to unleash it on the blissed-out listener.  Bass player Jan Rabiega and drummer Piotr Kuks lay a strong, solid foundation that’s never flashy, letting the guitars, keyboards and vocals dominate.

The band excels at blending their songs with dreamy vocal sections in slow, druggy tempos, punctuated by the extended instrumental breaks of those mighty guitars in faster, more complex time signatures.  The song Duo stretches out over nine minutes with several sections of both chill vocal sections and scorching guitar freakouts, including false endings to keep you on your toes.

“Dead Hookers” dispenses with the lysergic singing and instead brings funky, spiky playing that morphs into a lengthy, laid-back guitar groove.  “Sexi Frogs” continues with the funk at first, but before long we’re in another scenic trip with those harmonised rock guitars layered over the top of a Mellotron, and a jam to round it out.  Sign me up.  Closer “Honey” clocks in at almost nine minutes again, and is another tapestry of vocal harmonies on cruise control, heavy guitar freakouts, and spacy synth effects.

I’d call the album a grower, but the fact is I liked it right from the start.  Further listenings only brought out the best Atom Juice has to offer; it allowed me to discover nuances and aspects of the band’s considerable talent I hadn’t heard before.  It’s a very promising start for these fellows.  Kudos to juggernaut Heavy Psych Sounds for adding yet another excellent outfit to their formidable stable.

(Mark Feingold)

EMMA SWIFT – THE RESURRECTION GAME

(LP, CD, Digital on Tiny Ghost Records)

It’s hard to believe this is singer-songwriter Emma Swift’s first album of all original material, arriving so fully formed and magnificent in every way.  The Aussie musician, now residing in Nashville, did release an acclaimed album of Bob Dylan covers, Blonde on the Tracks, in 2020.  Between then and now she suffered a seven-week nervous breakdown.  What followed was hospitalization in her native Australia, and over a year of recovery and therapy.  And like many great artists, in exorcising her demons she turned her pain and suffering into an incredible work of art.

The album was recorded in the Isle of Wight and Nashville.  Producer Jordan Lehning provides a sonic backdrop full of rich, lush orchestrations and ace Nashville musicians that perfectly complements Swift’s tender, pure, beautiful voice and gorgeous melodies.  Occasionally, those arrangements risk being cloying, but they never cross that line, and the overall effect on the listener is an extremely emotional experience.  We all have baggage, and can easily identify with Swift’s artful messages, tearful as they might be for both her and us.

Swift touches on many subjects in her journey through the darkness and back out, and she has an eloquent way with words.  The songs can all be read simply as poetry, full of symbols and articulate meanings.  She sings of downward changes; of things falling apart; a Catholic upbringing laden with guilt and conscious of sin; despair; resilience; heartbreak and loneliness.  Although she doesn’t specifically cite a breakup in her own comments about the album, perhaps because of personal reasons and it’s one of those records where the listener can draw their own interpretations, I hear breakup imagery all over the place.  I call it a break-up and a breakdown album.

The album doesn’t waste a track.  All ten songs are excellent, and flow together perfectly.  The Resurrection Game is meant to be listened to in one sitting.  But it’s in repeated listenings where her words sink in more and take on new meanings, her vocal phrasings are better appreciated, and where the album becomes really devastating.  A few songs wrecked me.  “Beautiful Ruins” combines a tale of deterioration and aching heartbreak with a melody, arrangement and vocal performance that wrings every last tear out.  In “How to Be Small,” she sings “Let me down easy/Let me down sweetly/Teach me not to mind the fall/Show me everything and nothing at all/Pin me to a crumbling wall/Teach me how to be small.”  She tugs on every heartstring until you melt in a puddle at her feet.  Closer “Signing Off With Love” could be taken as ending the album with a ray of hope and redemption, but it’s really quite the opposite; a poetic tale of emptiness and tragedy.

The Resurrection Game took me by surprise; I wasn’t familiar with Swift and knew nothing about the album before listening, but was so grateful I did.  It’s a cathartic process and a free therapy session to boot.  That it’s wrapped in such a complete package – the melodies and arrangements, poignant lyrics and her touching vocals make this a highlight of the year.

(Mark Feingold)

GIANT DAY - ALARM

Available on The Elephant 6 Recording Co.

The sophomore release from rural Pennsylvania transplants Derek Almstead and Emily Growden is darker than their 2024 debut Glass Narcissus, right down to the album title, black inner label and sleeve, and lyric sheet. Reflective of the unsettling times we live in, they still find a light of hope at the end of dark, seemingly endless tunnels. ‘Out Of Hand’ opens with a slashing guitar that melds jangly power pop to The Cure’s minimalist gothic architecture (The Ladybug Transistor’s Gary Olson adds subtle trumpet sparks to up the anxiety quotient), which continues on last month’s showgazey single ‘Golden Times,’ all dreamy, swirling shades of Slowdive, Cocteau Twins, and My Bloody Valentine draped in sparkling keyboard flourishes.

     The album is fittingly dedicated to fellow Elephant 6 performer Will Cullen Hart (Olivia Tremor Control, Sunshine Fix, et.al.) who passed away last year around the time the album was recorded. ‘Happy Families Virginia’ explores things that might have been: “What kind of faces are looking out from the past?” But perhaps we can pick up where we left off: “I’m back into myself/We’re on the same plane now/The places we could go.” It’s never too late to start all over again. ‘Paoli’ is a 30-second snippet of spooky soundtrack music played by keyboardist Jamey Robinson that’s not too far removed from the percussive explorations of Louis “Moondog” Hardin.

     The couple up the ante on the percolating funky dance number ‘King Of Ghosts’ another earlier single with a B-52’s-meet-Talking Heads quirky backbeat, and Growden is at her heart-melting best with her soothing whispered vocals on ’Back To The Corner.’ Still room for a gnarly fuzz solo from Armstead though!

     The enigmatic ‘Spite 28’ invites Dave “Diminisher” McDonnell [from Terrastock vets Bablicon] to supplement gurgling, krautrock-adjacent synths while Growden coos invitingly, and ‘Think Carefully’ suggests something went terribly wrong, but I’m learning to deal with it: ”I’m going to have time in my cell.”  A bit of Beefheartian syncopated funk trips clumsily over a few empties as it stumbles into the room to get down and dirty and do the ‘Dirty Dog.’ ‘New Hollow’ stalks ominously along a bed of synths to warn all trespassers “crashing through the woods” that “We don’t take kindly to strangers” and ‘My Warm Smile’ continues the thread, picking up with ‘New Hollow’’s closing lyric and floating skyward amidst birdsong to the sun that “can never die”.

     We end on an upbeat note with the Stereolab-ish ‘Good Neighbor’, like most of the album, a short (under three minutes), sweet little musical aperitif that fades pleasingly into the night.

(Jeff Penczak)